

> V 









* *5^ - 

*. ** o 1 • 

' ‘ 

,♦ o 0 

<y %, * • ■ • 
v* ♦ * VL'» ^ «■ 

AV * tQjhfe^l • * 


♦ y v % w /\ 

■<* %. ^ c 4afl^:- V .* 


j. 0v ^ 



<y rA 

/ ^ * 

» « » ' A 0 ' ^ * » 1 ’ * A 

a' 5 >•**% A ,v A 

» A * 

J'G’ v* 

V«* tss^K^ 

“ ^ 

v *> % W 3 



-a ♦^ r 7» f.v T o *< 

V • * * . a*> 

♦ <^k .nr . • w ' • * *c> 


*b / • 

.* ‘ 

* ■* ’ A v ^ *••*■’ a© "<>, 

v aaL'* jy *'„*£* > 

ijfttahf* ** g> A ♦ 

:M/A« ^-fV- • 




5?^ 



A <***..•* ,G s - 

y .o“^% % f o* »• 

« ■‘5§\WV_. T*. A ?£W/<?> * 


y «+ 

^ A 

, - , ., „ . r V> V * 

; a*% WW** : - 

* A At- . 0> , ^ 'f' ^ -. 

■y 'o . , » A < 4 . 

c « O ^ X> 



CV , 

a v ■**’•■ *v' .£* *0-0 

k> tf • A 4^ % S ** / . ^ 

** ^ A^ ^ ^ 

**<? : 

A V • 

** ^wur > <l v ^ * 

•■•• V^V A 

*• A. . 6° .*W^,-. % A 

o v 




%& 


i5^ . 



• » i 


• » o 


s y V'* 

V * * v% c* . . 

V ♦ TAJhCmK * V^v ♦ 



s r . 




^ * » ■» » « ° a° 

^ ^ ^ t • c 
**• -^. *V_ a’ * 


-• /\ 

< r v <y 

* A <* ATTi* A v T o - 
G s o 0 * ® * 0^ t • 1 ' * » ? o. 





o • * 


•* ^o V 

•* a°° V‘‘^‘’/ 

:'M{k\ X<? : 

v W /\ \ 

* J\ ^ ^/7 7T* -o. * 

A> 



v> ' • * * A° , 

ft H ft «V . k I 4 . V 








vP 

v 

V 


0 * 





It 



0 * 



9 


ft- 











/ 


i 


6 



THE HEAD BODY OF BRODERICK. 


Citizens op California : A Senator 
lies dead in our midst. He is wrapped in 
a bloody shroud, and we to whom his toils 
and cares were given are about to bear him 
to the place appointed for all the living. It 
is not fit that such a man should pass to the 
tomb unheralded; it is not fit that such a 
life should steal uu noticed to its close; it is 
not fit that such a death should call forth 
no rebuke, or be surrounded by no public 
lamentation. It is this conviction which 
impels the gathering of this assemblage. 
"We are here of every station and pursuit, 
of every creed and character, each in his 
capacity of citizen, to swell the mournful 
tribute which the majesty of the people 
offers to the unreplying dead. He lies to- 
day surrounded by little of funeral pomp. 
No banners droop above the bier; no 
melancholy music floats upon the reluc- 
tant air. 1 he hopes of high-hearted 
friends droop like the fading flowers upon 
his breast, and the struggling sigh compels 
the tear in eyes that seldom weep. Around 
him are those who have kuown him best 
and loved him longest; who have shared 
the triumph and endured the defeat. Near 
him are the gravest and noblest of the 
State, possessed by a grief at once earnest 
and sincere; while beyond, the masses of 
the people, whom he loved and for whom 
his life was given, gather like a thunder- 
cloud of swelling and indignant grief. In 
such a presence, fellow-citizens, let us lin- 
ger for a moment at the portals of the tomb, 
whose shadowy arches vibrate to the pub- 
lic heart, to speak a few brief words of the 
man, of his life, and of his death. 

Mr. Broderick was born in the District 
of Columbia in 1819; he was of Irish descent 
and of respectable though obscure parent- 
age; he had little of early advantages, and 
never summoned to his aid a complete and 
finished education. His boyhood — as in- 
deed, his early manhood — was passed in 
the city of New York, and the loss of his 


father early stimulated him to the efforts 
which maintained his surviving mother and 
brother, and served also to fix and form 
his character even in his boyhood. His 
love for his mother was his first and most 
distinctive trait of character; and when his 
brother died — an early and sudden death — 
the shock gave a serious and reflective cast 
to his habits and his thoughts, which marked 
them to the last hour of his life. 

He was always filled with pride and 
energy and ambition; his pride was in the 
manliness and force of his character, and 
no man had more reason. His energy was 
mauifest in the most resolute struggles with 
poverty and obscurity, and his ambition 
impelled him to seek a foremost place in 
the great race for honorable power. Up 
to the time of his arrival in California, his life 
had been passed amid events incident to 
such a character. Fearless, self-reliant, 
open in his enmities, warm in his friend- 
ships, wedded to his opinion, and marching 
directly to his purpose through and over 
all opposition, his career was chequered 
with success aud defeat. But even in de- 
feat his energies were strengthened and his 
character developed. When he reached 
these shores his keen observation taught 
him at once that he trod a broad field, and 
that a higher carrer was before him. He 
had no false pride — sprung from a people 
and of a race whose vocation was labor, he 
toiled with his own hands and sprang at 
a bound from the workshop to the legisla- 
tive hall. From that hour there congregated 
around him and against him the elements 
of success and defeat. Strong friendships, 
bitter enmities, high praise, malignant 
calumnies; but he trod with a free and a 
proud step that onward path which has led 
him lo glory and the grave. 

It would be idle for me at this hour, and 
in this place, to speak of all that history 
with unmitigated praise; it will be idle for 


2 


his enemies hereafter to deny his claim to 
noble virtues and high purposes. When, 
in the Legislature, he boldly denounced the 
special legislation which is the curse of a 
new country, he proved his courage and 
his rectitude. When he opposed the va- 
rious and somelimes successful schemes to 
strike out the salutary provisions of the 
constitution which guarded free labor, he 
he was true to all the better instincts of bis 
life. When, prompted by his ambition 
and the admiration of his friends, he first 
sought a seat in the Senate of the United 
States, he sought the highest of all posi- 
tions by legitimate effort, and failed with 
with honor. It is my duty to say that, in 
my judgment, when, at a later period, he 
sought to anticipate the Senatorial election, 
he committed an error, which, I think, he 
lived to regret. It would have been a vio- 
lation of the true principles of representa- 
tive government, which no reason, public 
or private, could justify, and could never 
have met the permanent approval of good 
and wise men. Yet, while I say this over 
his bier, let me remind you of the tempta- 
tion to such an error, of the plans and the 
reasons which prompted it, of the many 
good purposes it was intended to effect. 
And if ambition, “the last infirmity of 
noble minds,” led him for a moment from 
the better path, let me remind you how 
nobly he retained it. It is impossible to 
speak, wi'hin the limits of this address, of 
the events of that session of the Legislature 
at which he was elected to the Senate of 
the United States; but some things should 
not be passed in silence here. The contest 
between himself and the present Senator 
had been bitter and personal. He had tri- 
umphed; he had been wonderfully sus- 
tained by his friends, and stood confes- 
sedly “the first in honor and the first in 
place.” He yielded to an appeal made to 
his magnanimity by his foe. If he judged 
unwisely, he has paid the forfeit well. 
Never in the history of political watfitre 
has any man been so pursued. Never has 
malignity so exhausted itself, Fellnvr- 
citizens, the man who lies before you 
was your beuator. From the mo- 
ment of his election, his charac- 
ter has been maligned, his motives at- 
tacked, his courage impeached, his patii- 
otism assailed. It has been a system tend- 
ing to one end, and the end is here. What 


was his crime ? Review his history— con- 
sider his public acts— weigh Lis private cha- 
racter— and before the grave enc’oses him 
forever, judge between him and bis ene- 
mies. As a man to be judged in bis private 
relations, who was his superior? It was bis 
boast- and amid the general license of a 
new country it was a proud one— that his 
most scru'inizing ei emy could fix no single 
act of immorality upon him. Temperate, 
decorous, self- restrained, he had passed 
through all the excitements of California 
unstained. No man could charge him with 
broken faith or violated trust. Of habits 
simple and inexpensive, he had no lust of 
gain. He overreached no man’s weakness 
in a bargain, and withheld no man hisjust 
due . Never, in the history of the State, 
has there been a citizen who has borne pub- 
lic relations more stainless in all respects 
than he. But it is not by ibis standard he 
is to be judged. He was a public man, and 
his memory demands a public judgment. 
What was his public crime? The answer 
is in his own words: 44 They have killed me 
because I was opposed to the extension of 
slavery and a corrupt Administration.” 
Fellow citizens, they are remarkable words, 
uttered at a very remarkable moment; they 
involve the history of bis Senatorial career, 
and of its sad and bloody termination. 
When Mr. Broderick entered the Senate 
he had been elected at the beginning 
of a Presidential t< rm, as a friend of the 
President elect, hhViug undoubtedly been, 
one of his most influential supporters. — 
There was unquestionably some things in 
the exercise of the appointing power which 
he could have wished otherwise; but he bad 
every reason with the Administration, 
which could be supposed to w.igh with a 
man in his position. He had heartily 
maintained the doctrine of, popular sove- 
reignty as set forth in the Cincinnati plat- 
form, and he never wavered in its support till 
the day of his death. But when in his judg- 
ment the President betrayed his obligations 
to the party and the conn ly - when, in the 
whole series of acts in relation to Kansas, 
he provi d recreant to his pledges and in- 
structions; when the whole power of the 
A< i ministration was brought to bear upon 
the legislative branch of the Government in 
order to force slavery upon an uu willing 
people, then in the high performance of 
his nuty as a Senator*, he rebuked the Ad- 


3 


ministration by his voice and hit* vote, and 
stood by his principles It is true he adopted 
no halfway n ea?urts. He threw the whole 
weight of his character into the ranks of 
the opposition; he endeavored to rouse the 
people to an indignant sense of the ini- 
quhou 9 tyranny of the Federal power, and 
kindling with • h. contest, became its fiercest 
and firmest opponent. 

Fellow-citizens, whatever may have been 
your political predilections, it is impossible 
torepnssyour admiration as you review 
the conduct of the man who lies hushed in 
death before you. You read in his history 
a glorious imitation of the great popular 
leaders who opposed the despotic influence 
of power i i other lands and in our own. 
When John llamp len died at Chalgrove* 
field he sealed his devotion to popular 
liberty with bis blood. The eloquence of 
Fox found the source- of its inspiration in 
his love of the people. When Senators con- 
spired against Tiberius Gracchus aud the 
Tribune of the people fell beneath their dag- 
gers, it w t hs power that prompted the 
crime and demanded ti e sacrifice. Who 
can douht i your benat«r led surrendered 
hi* free thoughts and bent in submission 
to the tule of the Administration — who 
can doubt that instead of resting on a 
bloody bier, he would this day htve been 
reposing in the irglorious telicitude of 
Presid« nti I sunshini ? 

llow-citiz ns, lit no man suppose 
that the deith of the eminent citizen of 
whom I speak was caused by any other 
reason than thattowl i:h his own words 
assign it. It has been 1 >n g foreshadowed. 
It was predi ted by his friends; it was 
threatened by his enemie* ; it was ihe con- 
sequence of intense political hatred. His 
death was a political necessity, poorly 
veiled um’er the guise of a private quarrel. 
Here, in his own State, among those who 
witnessed the late canvass, who knew the 
( o lending leaders — among those who knew 
the antagonists on the bloody ground, here 
the public con viction is so thoroughly set- 
tled, that nothing need be said. Tested 
by the correspondence itself, there was no 
cause in morals, in honor, in taste, by any 
code — by the custom of any civilized land, 
there was no cause for blood. Let me re- 
peat the story; it is as brief as it is fatal : 
A judge of the 8upr me Court descends 
iftio a political convention — it is just, how- 


ever, to say, that the occasion was to re- 
turn thanks to his friends for an unsuc- 
cessful support ; in a speech bitter and per- 
sonal be stigmatized Senator Broderick and 
all his friends in words of contemptuous 
insult. When Mr. Broderick saw that 
speech he retorted, saying, in sub- 
stmee, that he had heretofore spoken of 
Judge Terry as an honest man, but 
that he now took it lark. When in- 
quired of, he admitted th;»t he had so 
said, and connected his words with Judge 
Terry ’8 speech as promi ting them, bo far 
as Judge Terry personally was concerned, 
this was the cause of mortal combat; there 
was no other. In the content which ha9 
just terminated in the State, Mr. Broderick 
had taken a leading pirt; he had been en- 
gaged io controversies very personal in 
their nature, because the subjects of public 
discussion had involve 1 the character and 
conduct of many public and distinguished 
m« n. But Judge Terry was not one of 
these. He was ne contestant; his conduct 
was not in issue; he had been mentioned 
but once incidentally— in reply to his own 
attack — and, except as it might be found 
in his peculiar traits or peculiar fir ness, 
there was no reason to suppose that he 
would 6e«*k any man’s blood. When Wil- 
liam of Nassau, the deliverer of Holland, 
died in the presence of his wife and chil- 
dren, the hand that etruck the blow was 
not nerved by private vengeance. When 
the fourth Henry passed unharmed amid 
the dangers of the field of Ivry, to perish 
in the streets of his capital by the hand of a 
fanatic, he did not seek to avenge a private 
grief. An exaggerated sense of personal 
honor — a weak mind with choleric pas- 
sions, intense sectional prejudice, united 
with great confidence ia the use of arms — 
these sometimes serve to stimulate the 
instruments which accomplish the deepest 
and deadliest purpose. Fellow citizens ! 
One year ngo I performed a duty such as I 
perform to day, over the remains of 8enator 
Furguson, who died as Broderick died 
tangled in the meshes of the code of honor. 
To-day there is another and more eminent 
sacrifice. To day I renew my protest; to- 
day I utter yours. The code of honor is a 
delusion and a snare; it palters with the 
hope of a true courage, and bnyHw in at / 
the feet of crafty and cruel skill. It. sur- ' ' 
rouuda its vidna with the pomp and grace 


4 


of the procession, but leaves him bleeding 
on the altar. It substitutes cold and de- 
liberate preparation for courageous and 
manly impulse, and arms the one to dis- 
arm the other ; it may prevent fraud be- 
tween practiced duelists who should be for- 
ever without its pale, but it makes the mere 
“trick of the weapon” superior to the no- 
blest cause and the truest courage. Its pre- 
tence ot equality is a lie ; it is equal in all 
the form, it is unjust in all the substance — 
the habituate of arms, the early training, 
the frontier life, the border war, the sec- 
tional custom, the life of leisure — all these 
are advantages which no negotiations can 
neutralize, and which no courage can over- 
come. But, fellow citizens, the protest is 
not only spoken in your words and 
mine — it is written in indelible char- 
acters ; it is written in the blood 
of Gilbert, in the blood of Ferguson, in 
the blood of Broderick, and the inscription 
will not altogether fade. With the admin- 
istration of the code in this particular case 
I am not here to deal. Amid passionate 
grief let us strive to be just. I give no 
currency to rumors of which personally I 
know nothing; there are other tribunals to 
which they may well be referred, and this 
is not one of them; but I am here to say 
that whatever in the code of honor or out 
it demands or allows a deadly combat, 
where there is not in all things entire and 
certain equality, is a prostitution of the 
name, is an evasion of the substance, and 
is a shield blazoned with the name of 
chivalry to cover the malignity of murder. 
And now the shadows turn toward the 
East, and we prepare to bear these poor 
remains to their silent resting-place. Let 
us not seek to repress the generous pride 
which prompts a recital of noble deeds and 
^ianly virtues. He rose unaided and alone; 
he began his career without family or 
fortune, in the face of difficulties; he in- 
herited poverty and obscurity; he died a 
Senator in Congress, having written his 
name in the history of the great struggle for 
the rights of the people against the despotism 
of organization and the corruption of 
power. He leaves in the hearts of his 
friends the tenderest and the proudest 
recollections. He was honest, faithful, 
earnest, sincere, generous, and brave; 
he felt in all the great crises of 

his life that he was a leader in the 


ranks, and for the rights of the masses of 
men, and be could not falter. When he 
returned from that fatal field, while the 
dark wing of the archangel of death was 
casting its shadows upon his brow, his 
greatest anxiety was as to the performance 
of his duty. He felt that all bis strength 
and all his life belonged to the cause to 
which he bad devoted them. “Baker,” 
said he— and to me they were bis last words 
— “Biker, when I was struck, I tried to 
stand firm, but the blow blinded me, and I 
could not.” I trust that it is no shame to my 
manhood that tears blinded me as he said 
it. Of his last hours I have no heart to 
speak. He was the last of his race; there 
was no kindred hand to smooth his couch, 
or wipe the death-damps from his brow; 
but around that dying bed strong men, the 
friends of early manhood, the devoted ad- 
herents of later life, bowed in irrepressible 
grief, and lifted up their voices aud wept. 
But, fellow-citizens, the voice of lamenta- 
tion is not uttered by private friendship 
alone— the blow that struck his manly 
breast has touched the heart of a people, 
and as the sad tidings spread, a general 
gloom prevails. Who now shall speak for 
California? Who be the interpreter of the 
wants of the Pacific coast? Who can ap- 
peal to the communities of the Atlantic, 
who love free labor? Who can speak for 
the masses of men, with a passionate love 
for the classes from whence he sprung? 
Who can defy the blandishments of power, 
the indolence of office, the corruption of 
administrations? What hopes are buried 

with him in the grave? 

Ah ! who that, gallant spirit shall resume, 

Le.jp from Burota’s bank and call us irom the 

tomb. 

But the last word must be spoken, and the 
imperious mandate of death must be ful- 
filled. Thus, oh brave heart, we bear thee 
to thy rest! Thus, surrounded by tens of 
thousands, we leave thee to the equal 
grave. As in life no other voice among 
us so rang its trumpet blast upon the ear 
of freemen, so in death its echoes will re- 
verberate amid our mountains and valleys, 
until truth and valor cease to appeal to 
the human heart. 

His love of truth— too warm, too strong, 

For hope or f-ar to chain or chill, 

His hare of tyranny an' 1 wrong, 

B ira in the breasts he kindled still. 

Good friend! true hero! hail and fare- 
well. 














°*p. A 0 *'®« , 

C\ ,0 * 

:• \ J* .* 


• A <* 







* A vO 

*.*• cr ^'TyV* A <* 'f.A* «G* 

^ t-MZL* % / -^W °o >* .®^* ^ / .-•'•» 

o^ :'4Rgg: *W :«*; ’bf : ^mj^: ^o* • 

%. -5^- /• % -^^- 0 o > \'->^' / % •-:.„ 

*. ^ A * .v.W/i:. v ,# m-. ^ a ♦•>«-»-•- > 




^ A v * 

V(C> * 


V' ,<? 


c ^ c 


s a? ^ ^ °^> •: 


° ^ <? 



& y ,'■•♦- ^ 



cr • •;•♦ *c> 

/^nv ° 

V-^-V '°X;-^-\/ 

;■»••. v ^ .■-"•• •> 




• 

- *>> 4> ** 



'** -%.«? .*< 
. aV-^> : 

_ ,* ** V V 

~** .A < 


4 o 

^ * w/ „,„ „ 
o ,0° 

\V ^ # ' 1 A 

v _ o^ jy *i:* % < 



° o 

%* x* *\ v 


* ^ 

: V 





* ^ c\ 


^ -47 *‘ 


V . .i'.», ^ ,0^ (•” 


* A * 




^0 

"\K”“ v^ ^ V 

^ ® « ° ° ^ °0 ^ ^ '* oTTo- 

v •:•> *cv *<y ♦•••% *> 


*, o' ~ 

• **o« : % -S 


v v ^ 

• ***$. A^ » VC\^^/h*° J 

- V^ v - ™ //Ao 


r * .1 

l ^ v / * r\ ® o*o ' r ^*- A ^ 

^ ♦ rp x U 0 _-. U 






1 • O* C> ^ , \ v - t • o . V 



• wi 

. /I 

^* 5i ^ '°*‘‘ A° 




• % A* ® 

V^ v 



* A*> ♦ 

L° ^ * ' 


• a V *^ • 
;* <y ■<$• 


* r.^” ^ *^*8^' a ^ a^ k 



• * • a° 9** ^••* ^ <* 

o 0 ^ ‘ilL*®, ^o, ,a^ t * l J/'» ^ 

v * - O SarSrTlhu * 

^ cV^Pfc'. ?£m>' -turt 


\V *U 

V ♦ v CV 

‘ VJ 


■SU', 


* & %, 



'^<i 



- i°*+. •- 



0^ . 0 « • - ’fe- 


O \V^ 

;• ^ ^ 

o* A- <G V ^ A 

. «• # 

qV < Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 

4 Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
a/ \tts * Treatment Date: May 2010 

y ^ 


i« . o 



A°° ’^» '•»«' A -^. 

-- A 0 *lil^ ^ V <» * * °- < A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 


^ **^^9* A- 1 ^ PreservationTechnologies 


: 'W • 

,v^. * 



:• % 4> »: 

- v-s v • 


AiP 



111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 A 

(724)779-2111 i 

» -*3 ih ' 


to 



t • o 


• * 



» *'•.!.** > *0 ^ 

,0* V .A 


fCT*' /V <. ''S’.?'*' .o' 

A* ^ <0* •iV*, *\ 

>P^. 


■ * 0° 

* A / < 

> « ; 
* .« _ 


c5°^ 



V *T^V V* <^ 0 - 

* *> V • *••# c\ 

^ & 0 > VaO,* 4 


W « v^r-^/J - 

„ J* ^ \ *.W/ ^ « 

V* .6* V ♦7?7f* A 

& o* .^L* - , o 0 a* % . • ±1 ; 

*-o* *bv* 


^ •’ 




^ q. 


V kT ”' * C &y/ll)j£ * r\ 

, ^77^' *0° * 

, * • o* *<y ,*•*'♦ 

%«& \<? •SK' W *• - 

^ v \ '°IW ; /\ ilpy ♦< 

> V_« c ^V- %/ 4 




% **^ * * ^P° 

* ••* .0 *»’•' 

U° A ,tj 

fc : • 


£* * g 


. ♦ Or ♦ M 

>„• sP «1 
* .o ^ •? 



o N o 


i; ^ W .M|; :W 

?« .v«* : ^£^ * .v<* l$Mm 

A <\ *® . * * jy y> +<tI * % A <>*•♦»* 

v f A» 0**4 "^J-j 1*0 

:§$%£&* ++0* :*^K* -iSlfe*’- 


L/ r t / 

*.1 

^ * 


• Or ♦ i 

V^®'- i- 0 ’*.. '-*1^ 

r^V V^V °«i 


”'. - V 

r. .* V fc 

°. '^ , ^ 

. . * ' * . &*■ V '♦3?? * A ^ o ‘ '•! ■i * A^™' L 

c° .-ij,'-. % A ,.• „i-. %. 0°" .^-. °o a-» 

. ,^w <1 .yr^. -Kf i -^m.- -b/ 

v° ^ 


»5°<. 




< \.‘*. ’***f°° .. V'*'.*’* ./ °°^. ‘*-» ■•' • f°° . 

^j 0 cr^ _^y 


A 'v ,o* ^ A» 

^ *•«•* <r ^. *"-> ,% aP^ ' :, V < . #4 '®»» , .V^ 


o <X^*'O a 
* ♦* ^ 


'o • A 


^C 



•-•'♦ O- V v * 

%. 4? / 

V^ v 

^ v „ * aP'V j .1 

* •* ,<k <#- - 

.Or c®/L*« ^o 

0 ♦VsJJAh*'. ^ 

5 Oj, jO v^. *„€ 

nit ~ WERT "T| ^1 

indinc H ^ sy 

Ue, Pa B) v V A « t • o- . 0 V . 

fc 1989 H ^ A A V **a* 0 v* .V %• 

-____,_• %<y, av « j{\y${f /k ° < 1 ^ «• ^ 

O * 


; \WW: #*% \\ 

* A <y 'o . » * .6^ ** 

y*/r7zL' % c° *°^ - °^> 











